


The Worst Birthday and that which followed

by AlmostGinger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, Non-Canon Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-08-27 20:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmostGinger/pseuds/AlmostGinger
Summary: Ron has the audacity to leave Hermione and the children, Hermione deals with it like the BAMF she is and then finds herself having feelings for someone (not entirely) new. Slow burn Hermione/Cho. Cameos from all our  Hogwarts faves.This story is not canon, I repeat not canon. Ron and Hermione don't get a happy ending. It's not about Ron. Not your thing, no worries. Move on. #trollinthedungeon*obvs JK owns all characters etc. I'm just borrowing them :p





	1. Chapter 1

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at Number 16, Heaton Gardens. Hugo and Rose Weasley munched happily on their CHEERY-O's, a wonderful wizarding cereal which was not only nutritious but also gave the consumer a rosy, sunny-day sort of feeling. This was probably why the duo had not noticed the current argument their parents were having by the sideboard.  
"What in the name of Merlin's old socks are you talking about Ronald?" Shouted an already exasperated Hermione.  
"I'm sorry Mi'one, I can't do this anymore" said Ron, quietly, deflated.  
Hermione shook her head as if to wake from a dream. She must have been under some sort of confundus charm. There was no other logical explanation for what her husband was saying. Ronald Bilius Weasley was exiting their marriage. Hermione had naively assumed that having defeated the dark Lord, she would be able to enjoy her 'happy ever after'.  
She had assumed that having endured the hardships and losses of the wizarding war, marriage would be a great joy.  
She had been foolish to think that way, she blamed her muggle upbringing, all those Disney films with their unrealistic happy endings.  
No, marriage to Ron had been more like running on a treadmill that was littered with Lego bricks.  
The constant bickering had become their default setting. She had even turned a blind eye to the two affairs she knew about. Aurors work away from home frequently, but *not* that frequently.  
And now, after ten years of marriage, with two children to think of, Ron was leaving her. On her birthday.  
For the first time in her life, Hermione Jean Granger was at a loss for words.

*

"Hermione, you need to come out of your office. We're worried about you" Ginny Potter's worried face was evident even through the coals in the hearth.  
"I'm fine, I've got a huge workload lately" replied Hermione.  
"The ministry won't fall apart if you take some annual leave. Come and stay with us for a few days, you can bring the kids and we can let Harry entertain them while we talk."  
Hermione didn't want to see her best friends. She didn't want to see reminders of how her life had been. She just needed to get her work finished.  
"Hermione, are you even listening? You need your friends right now".  
Hermione didn't, she needed her parents. She couldn't speak to them though. The spell she had performed back when things were at their worst, the spell to erase her from their memory, it had been so strong that she had been unable to reverse it.  
"I'm sorry Ginny, I've really got far too much on. It's deadline after deadline"  
"Hermione please don't shut us out, we're your family. No matter what happens between you and Ron, you will always be family"  
"Thank you Ginny, I've got to go, I've a meeting with the Minister in ten minutes"  
Ginny took the hint and with a sigh disappeared from the fire.

Hermione turned back to her mountain of paperwork. Ginny was right, the ministry would survive a few days without her. She needed to get herself properly untangled from Ron's life. Find somewhere else to live. Ron had offered to leave her the house, but it had been in his family for years (good old Aunt Muriel had bequeathed it to Ron). Plus, she didn't want to have daily reminders of what was now lost.  
She wanted a fresh start. Somewhere loud and full of distractions. Somewhere she could discover and make her own. Somewhere Hugo and Rose would enjoy. They would be ok, the three of them. Her new golden trio.

*

  
"Make it pink mummy!"  
"Make it blue!"  
"Make it pink!"

Hermione chuckled as her children giggled and clapped every time she flicked her wand and changed the colour of their nursery walls.  
Their laughter was interrupted by an authoritative knock on the door. Hermione swooped up Rose, resting the infant on her hip and took Hugo's tiny hand in her own. She hoped it wasn't Ron. Hoped he hadn't changed his mind, and wanted to resume playing 'happy families'. She couldn't bear the thought of any more turns in this emotional rollercoaster.

The rain was sheeting down so hard, she could barely recognise the figure on her doorstep.  
"Professor?" Hermione asked, startled as Minerva McGonagall advanced into the house.  
"Miss Granger, forgive the intrusion, but I wondered if perhaps you might be in need of temporary childcare”.  
"Merlin's beard!" Replied Hermione, moving aside as her former professor passed the threshold like the wizarding world’s Mary Poppins.  
Minerva immediately crouched down to greet the little boy clinging on to Hermione's leg.  
"Hello dear boy, what's your name?"  
"Hugo" said the child, sticking out a podgy hand to shake. Minerva gently shook the little boy's hand, the first Weasley to have freckles and brown hair.  
"Hugo, what a lovely name! And who is this?" She replied, turning her attention to the little girl in Hermione's arms.  
"Rose!" Said Hugo, pleased to be showing off his little sister to somebody new.  
"Rose!" The little girl parroted.  
"Hello Rose" Minerva smiled.  
"Can I get you some tea professor?" Asked Hermione, ushering the professor through to the kitchen.

Hermione set the table and summoned a self brewing tea set.  
Hugo was fixated by Minerva. He had plonked himself on the chair nearest to her and hadn't stopped staring at her to even blink. It was the hat Hermione decided, Hugo had never really seen much traditional wizarding attire. Rose seemed less impressed by the newcomer, and continued to chew the ears of her bunny without another look in Minerva's direction.  
"Professor" began Hermione.  
"Minerva" her former teacher corrected her. In a tone that actually made her sound even more the professor.  
"Minerva, How did you know we were here? I only got the keys this morning, I was going to send an owl to all the relevant people tomorrow".  
The older woman looked almost sheepish, it was a look Hermione had never expected to see from the stoic professor.  
"Molly visited. She told me about Ronald. I wished to be of some use"  
"That doesn't actually answer my question"  
“ I followed you, once I had transfigured into cat form, of course."  
Hermione didn't know how she felt about this. On one hand it was lovely to see her mentor again. On the other hand she worried this was all a ploy by Molly to get Hermione and Ron back together.  
"I don't suppose you have another time Turner?" Hermione was half joking.  
Minerva narrowed her eyes, in the way she did when scolding her pupils. Hermione wondered if she could still lose points for Gryffindor.  
"And what, Miss Granger, would you do with it?" Replied McGonagall.  
Hermione didn't even know where to start.  
She certainly wouldn't have let her marriage have rotted, she would have got out sooner, to save them both the heartache. But then if she had got out too soon she wouldn't have the children. And it was the children that had made it feel worth staying. But she wasn't about to admit all that to Professor McGonagall so rather uncharacteristically, she shrugged in response.

"Are the children enrolled in pre-school?" Asked Minerva, sipping gently at her tea.  
"Not yet, we didn't know where to send them, Briarbank or Flundenwood."  
Hermione had found the wizarding world much more traditional than expected in some ways. Child care was nearly always left to the mothers or grandparents and only 2 wizarding preschools existed in the whole country. One of the many unresolved arguments had been whether the children would go to wizarding pre-school or whether they would go to Molly's. Ron had a strong argument, his mother had raised 7 children and unofficially taken on any waifs and strays that found their way to The Burrow (Harry and Hermione being included in that number). Molly was more than happy to play the doting grandmother. She was already providing childcare for Harry and Ginny, and Bill and Fleur. It would be good for Hugo and Rose to grow up with their cousins, Ron had argued.

Hermione wasn't against the idea totally. Molly was a great woman, the children adored her. It would be brilliant for them to spend their days at The Burrow with Molly, Arthur and the cousins. But then when they got to Hogwarts they wouldn't know any other children. They wouldn't have integrated with other children who weren't family. They might not be as up to speed academically. At least with a pre-school the children would get used to a more regimented way of learning.

Hermione remembered how overwhelmed she had been going from a muggle primary school where she knew everyone to Hogwarts, where she knew nobody, and had to prove her worth to prejudiced students and teachers alike. She didn't want Hugo and Rose to experience that. She wanted them to have the head start that she hadn't.  
"Flundenwood has, in my opinion, created a curriculum which prepares the little ones for Hogwarts. There is a heavy emphasis on community spirit and a great deal of focus on outdoors and nature. Professor Longbottom said all the first years who have come from Flundenwood are far outperforming their peers".  
"I will certainly be making appointments to view Flundenwood. Maybe next week, once we're settled in. "  
"Very good" nodded Minerva, "Now, you finish your tea and I'll put the little ones to bed".


	2. Chapter 2

"You can't send Hugo to Flundenwood" Ron said as he came from the fireplace, brushing the soot from his shoulders as he spoke.  
"Hello Ronald, do you think you could have perhaps have had the courtesy to call ahead before storming into my office?" said Hermione, without looking up from her work. She wasn't going to award his theatrics with attention. She wasn't playing any more.  
"Hermione, listen you can't send him"   
"Ronald we have discussed this. I think it would benefit the children to be in a educational institution while they're young and their brains are still little sponges. They can spend the holidays at The Burrow. I am not moving my position on this." Hermione looked up at him with a look Ron would later describe to Harry as "ferocious".   
"You can't Hermione, Hugo is a squib" replied Ron. Hermione laughed. It was just the most unexpected, absurd thing to come out of Ron's mouth since the slug vomiting incident.   
"I'm serious Hermione. Hugo is a squib. We can't send him to pre-school, and we can't send him to Hogwarts either."  
"What on earth has made you think our son is non-magical?". Hermione hated the term 'squib' almost as much as she hated the term 'mudblood'.   
"Last month, when I took the kids to see Neville, well we were waiting for him in McGonagall's office. And the Sorting Hat was there, and I was just curious. I just wanted to know if we had two little Gryffindors." Hermione gestured at him to continue. "Well I put the hat on our Hugo, and the hat said that he had a good heart and good brains but that no house could be his home as he has no magic in his veins. The bloody Sorting Hat made a rhyme to tell Hugo he was a squib" Ron finished, looking equal parts ashamed and upset.   
"But kids don't show signs of magic until they're about 11 anyway, its just because he's young" Hermione began, her mind working fast to find all logical solutions.   
"You know that's not true, we all show signs in our early years, whether it's making a toy explode or turning your pet green, even toddlers can perform acts of magic by accident. But just to be sure, I put the hat on Rose. That stupid hat shouted "Gryffindor" loud as you like".   
Hermione exhaled slowly. This wasn't something she had prepared for. Hermione had contingency plans for nearly everything in her life. But not this.  
"Are you sure?" She said.   
"Oh what, because his mother's the greatest witch of her time, he can't possibly be a squib?" Spat Ron. It was unnecessary, but he was hurting and he had held on to this secret for so many weeks that it had been festering in his mind.  
"Hugo could be a deatheater and I'd still love him. It doesn't matter if he's a world class wizard, or if he's not got a scrap of magical ability. My parents were non-magical and it didn't make any difference to me" replied Hermione.   
"Hermione, your parents are muggles, they got to live in ignorance of the magical world. Hugo won't have that luxury. His sister, his cousins, his parents, everyone in his life is magical, how is he gonna grow up seeing what he could have had" said Ron, and for a minute, Hermione saw a glimpse of the man she had loved. His emotional range had finally evolved into something larger than that of a tea spoon.   
"Its nuture Ron. We teach him that there is so much more to a person than whether they are good at spells. What did Dumbledore tell Harry?"   
"I dunno, he said a lot, old Albus" "It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities".  
"Try telling than to an 11 year old when all his friends are flying around a qudditch pitch and he's stuck on the ground".  
"It's up to us to teach him his worth is far greater than an ability to swish a wand".  
"Do you truly believe that? Is there not a single part of you that is thinking trying to figure out how to fix it?" He wasn't being accusatory, he was clearly projecting, but Hermione was offended anyway.   
"He doesn't need fixing Ron. He's a happy and healthy little boy and the only thing that can change that is perception. If you perceive our son to be anything else than perfect than I'm not sure I have anything else to say to you" she replied haughtily. "Don't be like that, of course I think he's perfect, but his life is going to be difficult and I don't want that for him. If there is something we can do to help him, we need to"  
"Being caring and supportive is all the help he needs Ron. Of course his life is going to be difficult. But so was yours, and so was mine, and Harry's. And everyone who grew up in during the war."  
"This is different Hermione. And you know it is" interrupted Ron.  
"How? We cannot change the fact that Hugo is non-magical. We can only help change attitudes towards non-magical people" "This isn't another bloody house elf Hermione. You can't just go campaigning for equal rights for squibs. This is our son, we need to do more than put an 'equal-rights' banner up." Ron was shouting now his face almost as red as his hair.  
"Leave now Ron, before I do something I regret".   
"Oh piss off" he said as he turned on his heels and returned to the fireplace. 

* 

"I'm glad you agreed to see me. I've been worried about you" said Harry, setting down two pints of butterbeer on to the table. Hermione wasn't usually an advocate of liquid lunches but her encounter with Ron had made a butterbeer over lunch seem very appealing. Harry peered at her over his pint, his concern evident.  
"How are you?" He asked.  
"Did he tell you about Hugo?" She replied, not wishing to go round the houses.   
"What's happened to Hugo?" He replied. She didn't think Harry was covering for Ron, and if he was, she didn't have the energy to waste on getting angry.  
"Ron thinks that Hugo is non-magical" she said, quietly, it wasn't that she was ashamed or embarrassed, she just didn't want the wrong ears hearing, Rita Skeeter was already having a field day with their pending divorce. Harry's jaw fell so fast he nearly smashed the glass he was nursing.   
"You really need to work on your poker face, Harry" quipped Hermione.  
"I don't understand, why would Ron think that?"  
"He put the Sorting Hat on the children, Rose is a Gryffindor, Hugo is non-magical"   
Harry puffed his cheeks in and out as if he was swilling mouthwash. He had endured so many hardships in his life, and yet, he found being a parent, an uncle, a mentor, the most difficult. It was different, when he was younger he only had himself and his friends to worry about. But children, children changed everything.   
"Are you sure?" He asked, softly. Hermione understood why he asked, she had done the same to Ron. From now on she would be met with this. People asking if she was sure, people would ask if they had tried various potions and charms to help.   
"Have you ever known the Sorting Hat to make a mistake?" She replied. Harry shook his head and looked into his butterbeer for answers.  
"He'll be ok Hermione, magic or no magic, with you in his corner, he has all he needs." This earned Harry a small smile from his friend. He wished he could ease some of her suffering. He had known for some time that his two best friends were no longer happy, he had of course had the good sense to stay out of it, offering a listening ear and a gentle shoulder squeeze as and when it was required.  
"I don't even know what happens to non-magical kids. Ron said they can't go to Hogwarts, is that true?"  
" I don't know, I've never thought to ask" Harry replied. Ashamed that he hadn't considered the issue before. Hermione was following a similar thought pattern.  
"Do you think it's because I'm from non-magical parents?" Asked Hermione, subconsciously rubbing her arm where "mud blood" had been carved into her skin all those years ago.   
"Hermione, don't go down that path. I don't think anyone knows why some people are born magical and some aren't. I mean has there been much research?"   
"I don't know. I think that's what is bothering me more, that I've never given thought to the plight of non-magical people." "Don't be hard on yourself Hermione, we were rather preoccupied fighting evil forces when we were studying. And Filch hardly inspired anybody to consider the plight of the squibs, sorry, non-magical folk".   
"I need to do what I do best" said Hermione after a few minutes of silent contemplation, "I need a library".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying this, it's been a while since I've written anything so forgive my rustiness. And Cho will appear soon, honest! Thanks for reading :-)


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was sat at the kitchen table, occasionally glancing at the casserole in the self-cooking cauldron, but mostly concentrating on the numerous articles and books she had pulled from the ministry’s library earlier that day.  
Rose was napping on the rug on the floor (she had been pretending to be Crookshanks and had gotten so into her role- play that she had curled up fast asleep by the fire). Hugo was very gently running his toy car across his sleeping sister’s head. Minerva had only stayed a few days, whilst Hogwarts could spare her, but those few days had given Hermione enough of a reprieve to get herself a little more organised and to put a plan together. She would continue to do half days at the Ministry and the children would see Ron as and when he was off duty. She had already visited Briarbank and had a less than encouraging meeting with the head. The school wasn't quite as progressive in its approach as Hermione had hoped, it concentrated heavily on academia and showed little consideration for pastoral care.  
She had a meeting with Gerda Runacus, the Head of Flundenwood in the morning and was expecting much better things.   
The timer went off alerting her the casserole was ready, and disturbing Rose from her nap. Without missing a beat, Hermione simultaneously flicked her wand to prepare the table, and scooped the children off the floor.   
Dinner was a noisy affair, they were at that age where kids hum as they chew. It was like eating dinner with a hive of bees.   
“Mummy, when's it we see nanny?” Asked Hugo, through a mouthful of food, a trait he had most definitely picked up from Ron.   
“Hugo, don’t talk with your mouthful, it's not polite. You’re going to stay with Nanny tomorrow afternoon for a few days”   
“Daddy?” Asked Rose, her podgy little hand held out as if asking for a biscuit.  
“Yes, Daddy will pick you up from Nanny’s when he has finished work tomorrow.”   
This elicited a happy little chuckle from her daughter and a big smile from her son.   
“Cans we have icecream?” Asked Hugo.  
“No sweetie, that's a weekend treat. I'll get you a banana instead” she replied, a flick of her wand retrieving the fruit for them all. If Hugo’s requests for sweet treats were always fulfilled he would be the size of a small horse.   
The children finished their afters and Hermione sat them down for their current favourite evening routine, story time. Specifically, the tales of Beedle the Bard. It amused her how much they loved it, considering they had made her read it to them every night for nearly a month now.   
Once they were tucked up in bed and softly sleeping she returned to her books. She had barely had chance to turn the page before being interrupted by an owl tapping its beak persistently against the kitchen window. She didn't recognise the bird as belonging to anybody she would normally receive mail from.   
She took the scroll from the owl and began to read. The parchment had been enchanted so that it looked like a simple shopping list.   
“Sententia revelio” she said and the ink began to soak into the parchment and in its place began a new message.  
“Dear Hermione,   
Please excuse my clandestine approach. I have been given some sensitive information regarding your son. I work for the Daily Prophet and am hoping to keep your child’s condition away from public digestion. I cannot guarantee to keep the information out of the public eye, or from my colleague, Ms. Skeeter, but please know I will try my very best.  
I would recommend you get in contact with Grafton Zinno of the Jacob Kowalski Foundation, he will be able to give you advice and further support contacts. He can be located at The Leaky Cauldron most evenings from 2pm.   
Kindest regards,   
A Friend.”  
Hermione frowned, she supposed at least the secretive writer of the scroll hadn't attempted to bribe her regarding the truth reaching the headlines. The Daily Prophet had been a constant source of annoyance in her adult life. Even after all that had transpired, the media still had an unwanted obsession with the golden trio.When young James had first started at Hogwarts, the press presence had been so heavy, Harry had to reinstate use of the invisibility cloak.   
She began searching her books and articles for any mention of a Jacob Kowalski.   
The only mention she could find was in an article from The Daily Prophet in 1927, an article about Newt Scamander being wanted in Paris and travelling with a muggle suspect named Kowalski.   
Perhaps the writer of the letter was setting a trap. Perhaps it was Rita Skeeter herself. There was only one way to find out.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione made her way over to the Leaky Cauldron straight from dropping the children off with Molly. She hurried through the unrelenting rain, despite her best efforts she entered the Leaky Cauldron looking wild and untamed, like some creature Hagrid would trade you for.   
She had no clue who she was looking for, she decided the author of the letter had been deliberately ambiguous. And if it had been a rouse set up by Rita Skeeter, well she had stormed right into it, wet socks and all.   
She headed to the bar, acutely aware of stares from various undesirables as she passed.   
“What’ll it be Miss?” Asked the barman, not turning his gaze from the screen on the wall showing the live quidditch match.   
“I'm here to see Grafton Zinno” she began.  
“Well you should wait till he is off shift love, he ain't getting paid to flirt” the grumpy man said, still fixated on the match.   
Hermione gave a sort of “huff” in response and ordered a butterbeer instead. She took her drink and made her way to a table tucked in the corner.  
She pensively surveyed the room. She didn't recognise anybody outright. Perhaps one or two who might work at the ministry, but nobody she knew by name.   
There was a group of about five middle-aged wizards sat nearest the screen that we're getting rowdier as the match went on. They were jumping on the table and singing loudly, each seemed to be singing a completely different song to the other and Hermione had to wonder how long they had been drinking. 

“Off the tables lads, don't ruin my nicely polished surfaces” said a tall, muscular man who had appeared, from the door, a huge barrel strewn over his shoulder as if it were a mere tea towel.   
“Calm down Zinno, we wouldn't wanna upset you, petal” replied one of the Wizards, in a mocking tone, but jumping down from the table anyway. Hermione didn't blame him, the man was a Goliath. She watched him turn from the drunken bunch and head off with the barrel.   
She was formulating a plan to introduce herself to him when her thoughts were interrupted by the man himself.   
“Tom said you were here to see me” it wasn't just his stature that was intimidating, it was the confidence that lay underneath, he held himself like a man who had never been defeated by anything.   
“Yes, at least I think so. Are you Grafton Zinno?”  
“Yeah, who wants to know?”   
“My name is Hermione Granger, I was told to seek your counsel”   
Grafton's eyebrows had raised slightly in recognition at her name, but he had taken it in his stride.   
“Counsel on what? Do you have a heavy wardrobe you need lifting?” He replied.  
“Why would I need that? I can just use a spell”   
Grafton shrugged.   
“Whatcha want then?”   
“I was told to seek advice from Grafton Zinno from the Jacob Kowalski Foundation”  
His eyebrow twitched once more.  
“Who sent you?” His tone was cold and flat.   
“I, I don't know”  
“Do you always take instructions from unknown sources?”   
Hermione was starting to think she would have preferred to have been met with Rita Skeeter’s smug face after all.   
“Come with me” said Grafton after a moment. Hermione silently downed her drink and followed him past the bar, Tom muttered something as they passed but she couldn't quite make it out. Grafton lead her up the rickety stairs and bizarre corridors to one of the guest rooms. He ushered her in and shut the door.  
“You know any secrecy charms?” He asked, his features suddenly softer.   
Hermione nodded.  
“Please” he gestured to her to perform the spell. Hermione debated the risk of performing a secrecy charm in the company of a complete stranger.  
She got her wand out anyway.  
“Is it done?” He asked.  
“Yes, though I don't understand the need”   
“That's because you don't understand me, or the Jacob Kowalski Foundation” he replied settling himself on the small wooden chair by the desk. It looked like the tiny frame would collapse under him at any minute.   
“Enlighten me”   
“I'm a squib. It's not something I tell everyone, it's on a need to know basis. Life can get pretty tough when everyone knows you've nothing in your magical armoury. Think they can take you for a ride.”  
“I can't imagine anyone trying to get one-up on you” replied Hermione, she meant it kindly.   
“I had to become this way, this ‘big man’ persona. Kept me out of trouble, kept me safe. That's what the Jacob Kowalski Foundation does, it keeps people like me safe. So, I gotta ask, what does the 'Brightest Witch of Her Age' want with a secret charity that looks after squibs?”  
“You shouldn't call yourself a squib, it's so derogatory”   
“It's what I am, It makes no difference whether you label me a squib, a no-mag or a non-magical person, the name doesn't change the fact that I cannot perform magic. Now answer my question.”  
“I'm seeking your advice because there is a good chance my little boy is also non-magical”  
“I see”  
“Even after all these years I still have so little experience of the wizarding world, and I can't find anything that answers my questions”   
“You're a muggle born aren't you?” Grafton asked, it wasn't accusatory, he was just trying to fit the pieces of what he had read about the witch before him together.   
“Yes, I feel so useless” said Hermione, surprising herself with her own volume. She was just so frustrated, by everything.   
"I'm pretty sure that is just parenthood in general" he replied with a smile. She let herself relax a little,allowing herself to ease a little of the tension in her shoulders for a rare minute. 

"It's unorthodox, but I could organise a group meeting earlier this month if you would like?" Said Grafton.  
"How soon? Can we use the Floo network?" Asked Hermione, her head already full of the questions she had to ask.  
"No Hermione, we are mostly squibs, we can't use the network unaided, we can't apparate. We have to do mundane muggle stuff, like use the Tube" replied Grafton, trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice. Considering she was a famed brainbox, she was being pretty dim in his opinion.  
"Of course, I'm so sorry, that was so insensitive of me" she replied, mortified at herself, she was being as obtuse as Ron!   
Grafton shrugged it off. Wizards rarely understood, and in the rare occasions one did and wanted to learn more, it always took a few stupid sentences before they realised just how different the life of a squib was. 

"Would it be ok to come to your meeting, I will try to keep all ignorant comments to myself"  
This achieved a small chuckle from the big man on the tiny chair.   
"You are most welcome, would you like to bring your son?" He asked.  
"Perhaps, although I might end up spending half the meeting keeping him from eating things off the floor"  
"How old is your son?"  
"He's nearly four"  
"How do you know he's a squib if he's only four?" Grafton was concerned that Hermione may just be one of those overly pushy parents that demanded high achieving toddlers.  
"My husband put the sorting hat on him, the sorting hat said he was non-magical" replied Hermione.  
"I hate that bloody hat. At least your son won't ever have to suffer the humiliation of being outed at Hogwarts." Said Grafton gritting his teeth at the unpleasant memory.  
"What? The hat told you at Hogwarts?" Hermione was horrified.  
" I was stupid really. I suppose most kids know by eleven if they are magical, you show some signs before eleven don't you. I knew I wasn't like my brothers, but I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to miss out, didn't want to let my parents down. So I lied, pretended I had received my invitation. I went, got to that beautiful hall, had all those kids staring at me, and that hat, that bloody hat just shouts out ; "What you feared is sadly true, there is no magic in you". The hall went silent, all those eyes just staring...then came the laughs, and the insults" Grafton said, his voice breaking a little.   
"What happened?"   
"Madam Pomfrey, she came and took me out of that hall. She sat me in a side room, shared some chocolate with me and told me that her cousin was a squib. She said it wasn't important if I could do magic or not. She said it was important that I do the best in whatever I could, to find my own vocation and be the best at it. I think she saved my life with that advice."  
Hermione tried to subtlety wipe a tear away. Grafton passed her a tissue from a box on the side table.   
"Don't get upset Hermione, my past is not your son's future, we'll make sure of that together".  
Hermione decided in that moment she was going to make the Wizarding world a kinder place for all non-magical inhabitants.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have changed a few things for my own purposes, so in books Hugo is younger than Rose but I switched that. Also Ginny is too awesome to not be living her best life in the Holyhead Harpies so she is.

Hermione got back to the quiet town house, her head still buzzing from her meeting with Grafton. She made herself a tea and slumped onto the sofa, the cold leather shocking her a little, winter was quickly approaching now, it wouldn't be long until the snow would be making an appearance. She performed a warming charm and lay back, getting comfy. It seemed so empty without the children running around, demanding attention. The unfamiliar silence soon delivered her into a restless sleep.  
The church organ was loud, deafening almost. It played a melancholy tune that made her feel anxious, as though the music was a theme tune to her panic attack. She waited with numerous strangers in the small lobby, Trying to focus in on her breathing. Counting to 100. She couldn’t remember what came after 89. She was so scared, everything was dark and there were so many people and she really didn't know why she was here. She was lost, how did she end up here? She began to cry, the crowds of people parted and there was her mum. Her lovely mum, with her kind smile and her soft hands, taking Hermione’s in her own and leading her out of the church. “I told Dad you were too young for this, come on sweet pea, we will go to the house and meet the others later.”  
Hermione woke up with a start. She felt relieved but unsettled by the dream, or rather, the half memory of her grandmother’s funeral. She didn't often dream, but when she did it was always memories of her life pre-Hogwarts. She couldn't explain why her subconscious decided to chuck infant memories at her, she was grateful it was those memories and not flashbacks from Malfoy Manor and the suffering she experienced at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange. Yet, the dream had made her think about her parents again. She wished she could reach them, she craved their reassurance more than ever.  
Her mum would know what to do, she always knew what to do. She should never have obliviated them. It was too late now, even if she could try and undo her spell again, too much time had passed, they would never be able to forgive her for letting them miss out on so much. She began to wonder what her life would have been like if she had kept them close. Would they have approved of her marriage to Ron? They would have adored the children. They would have been proud of her. That she was sure of. She got up and poured away her cold tea. She felt so restless. The house was too quiet and her thoughts too loud. She looked at the watch on her wrist, an anniversary present from Ron, 9.25pm, late, but not too late. She changed into her active wear and went out for a run.  
The cold air hit her lungs instantly and made her gasp. She continued on, the street was empty as she jogged down the dimly lit pavement. The night was cold but dry. She carried on down Parson Avenue, and on towards the park. She picked up speed as she entered the park, she would never have braved such a feat if it weren't for the security of her wand tucked safely in her pocket. The path through the park was slightly more illuminated than the street, the council wanted to discourage antisocial behaviour and had focused their efforts here. Not that it was working much, Hermione jogged past some unsavoury types that were definitely up to no good. She ran past the fountain, the rushing water drowning out the catcalls from the two men. As her body began to get warmer her speed picked up, she felt the endorphins start kicking in. She could do all the spells in her repertoire but none would compare to the simple thrill of a bit of exercise. Nothing else could clear her head like a run. As she made her way out of the park and into town she became aware of steady footsteps behind her, only slightly out of time with her pace. She sped up, the feet behind her sped up. Concerned but not wanting to reveal it, Hermione took a turn down a side road, the feet followed. She stopped abruptly, turning to face her pursuer. Her hand steady on the wand in her pocket.  
“Merlin’s beard you can run” said a slightly out of breath Ginny.  
“Ginny, what are you doing here?” Asked Hermione, relieved it was her friend following her, but ultimately confused to why she was being pursued by her friend.  
“I came to see you, wanted to see how you were. Thought it would be a good time to catch up whilst the kids aren't around”  
“Not sure that explains why you were running after me” replied Hermione with a raised brow.  
“Well you started running just as I reached your street, I thought I would come with”  
“Why didn't you just say hello like a normal person?”  
Ginny shrugged.  
They began to walk aimlessly together.  
“So how've you been?” Asked Ginny.  
“Fine, you know how it is. Just running after the kids, keeping up with work, how are you? How are the children?”  
“I'm not buying it. You’re not fine, you look like something Hagrid adopted” replied Ginny.  
“Wow, thanks Gin, no holding back there.”  
“I am your friend, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm also not going to leave you to yourself when you need me.”  
“I’m honestly fine”  
“You can lie to yourself, not to me though. I know you think you can do everything by yourself, but you don't have to, we’re here for you, Harry and Me, there's nothing you can't trust us with, no matter what goes on between you and Ron”  
“Thank you.”  
They turned onto the high street and were met with the lights and noise of a Saturday night.  
“You wanna go for a drink?” Asked Ginny with a playful grin.  
“In a muggle bar?”  
“Yeah why not, it's nice to have a bit of anonymity every now and then”  
“But we can't get drunk off muggle liqueur” Hermione pointed out.  
“Ha! I didn't realise you wanted to get drunk, you should have said” teased Ginny.  
“Oh be quiet” Hermione tutted, charmed their clothes and entered the cocktail bar.  
The bar was full of tipsy muggles staggering and slurring their words. Ginny elbowed her way to the bar and ordered them some absurdly neon drinks.  
“This can't be fit for human consumption” Hermione said, eyeing the drink suspiciously.  
“Says the woman who regularly devours boxes of Bertie Botts every flavour bean” replied Ginny as she joined Hermione at the sticky booth seats.  
“I miss this” replied Hermione.  
“Me too. Adulthood really isn't all that” mused Ginny, her serious face somewhat diluted by the comedy flamingo straw she was drinking from.  
“We got old so fast”  
“War does that” replied Ginny.  
Hermione nodded and stirred the strawberry dancing in her drink.  
Ginny was surveying the crowd of dancing muggles.  
“It's strange to think these people grew up at the same time as us, blissfully unaware of how close they were to being wiped from existence” she said after a while.  
“Do you envy them?” Asked Hermione.  
“No, are you kidding me, I think being an adult witch is boring, imagine being an adult and having no magic. it's no wonder they get drunk at the weekend.”  
Hermione understood her logic, but with her muggle upbringing she knew it had its merits. It made her wonder about Hugo though, knowing about magic and not being able to perform it would be very different.  
“Has Ron told you about Hugo?”  
“No, Harry did. He is worried about you”  
“I know”  
“You’re his family, you know that”  
“I know” Hermione repeated. She was about to say more but was interrupted by a muggle.  
“Alright girls, having a good night are you” he wasn't uneasy on the eye, Hermione could appreciate that some might find his smile quite attractive, and his eyes were exceptionally blue. He parked himself next to her on the booth seat. Ginny gave her a pointed look.  
“Name’s Steve, what's yours?”  
“Hermione”  
“Hermione? Like that tall one who was in ‘Cold Feet’?” He said.  
Hermione and Ginny exchanged another look.  
“I don't know, maybe?” Tried Hermione.  
“You never watch it? It's brilliant. What do you watch then? You more into Big Brother and I’m a celeb? All that reality stuff?”  
They were really out of their depth.  
“I don't really get time to watch anything” answered Hermione.  
“Why’s that then, too much partying eh girls?” He grinned. It was all very well having anonymity, but they wouldn't have had to entertain this stranger in the wizarding world. In the wizarding world, if the two of them were sat together in the Leaky Cauldron or the Three Broomsticks, the only stranger that would dare plonk themselves at their table uninvited would be a certain reporter for the Daily Prophet.  
“So what do you girls do when you're not drinking woo woos?” He was persistent she had to give him that.  
“I work for the government” she replied.  
“What about you love?’ He asked looking to Ginny for the first time since he invaded their table. She wanted desperately to tell him she was a chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. She decided Hermione already had enough stress in her life, and resigned herself to behaving. For now.  
“I’m a full-time mum” she replied.  
“Oh right, I love kids me, got two myself. Only see them every other weekend, but they're great lads. How old are yours?”  
“James is eleven, Albus is four and Lily is 2” answered Ginny.  
“You don’t look old enough to have a kid as old as eleven” said Steve. Ginny took the compliment, hooray for witch ageing.  
“You still with their dad?”  
Ginny nodded.  
“What’s he do then, your feller?”  
“He is in law enforcement”  
“Copper is he?”  
“Something like that” she mused. She glanced over to Hermione, her friend had been silently surveying the bar. Ginny followed Hermione’s gaze. She recognised the woman Hermione was intently staring at. Her dark hair was sickeningly glossy, her slim but toned figure was something Ginny had always admired. It was unmistakably Cho Chang. What was Cho doing in a muggle bar? She knew Hermione was already working on several theories as to the reason for Cho’s presence. Not one to beat around the bush, Ginny stood up and waved like a lunatic. “Cho! Come and have a drink with us!”  
To her credit, Cho took it in her stride, and her made her way to the booth.  
“Aye aye, this is a proper girls night out ain’t it! I should leave you girls to it” said Steve leaving the booth, he had wanted an excuse to leave since he found out Ginny had a copper for a husband, and to think he had been just a few conversations away from offering them a spliff.  
“Hi” said Cho with a smile, sitting down where Steve had just vacated.  
“He left the seat nice and warm” she said, in her distinct lilt. Hermione had always enjoyed a Scottish accent, she didn't discriminate between the different dialects, Glaswegian, Aberdeen, East Kilbride. It all sounded good to her.  
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Joked Ginny.  
“I could ask the same of you two. Sometimes I just can’t bear the incestuousness of Diagonal Alley, sometimes I wanna go out and not bump into anyone I know”  
“I’ll drink to that” said Ginny raising her glass. The women clinked their glasses.  
“So how are you both? Excellent game last week Ginny, absolutely smashed it” said Cho.  
“Thanks, it was good to finally get one up on Puddlemere”  
Hermione felt terrible that she hadn't been keeping up on her friend’s games.  
“It was a wicked match. Really enjoyed it. And how's things at the Ministry Hermione, I heard they are pushing to make clearer employment contracts for the Gringotts goblins”  
“Yeah, they didn’t actually have any specific contracted hours, or rights at all. Some reported working 87 hours without a single break. It's just not acceptable. How did you hear about it?”  
“Cho works for the Daily Prophet, she hears about everything” laughed Ginny.  
“It’s true, that's why I come to muggle venues on my nights off, I can't see anything of interest so I actually get a night off” she added.  
“I suppose it's hard for people to trust you if they always think you’re about to write an article about them” said Hermione coldly. She didn’t have anything truly personal against Cho but she couldn’t pretend she approved of someone who’s profession was to spread propaganda and gossip.  
“You mostly cover the sports don’t you Cho?” Said Ginny, noting the disapproval in Hermione’s demeanour.  
“Yeah mostly Quidditch coverage, the occasional fluff piece.” Replied Cho.  
“Didn't you contribute to the coverage of the breakdown of my marriage?” said Hermione, turning to the writer and piercing her with a stern stare.  
“Hermione” said Ginny softly, wondering if her friend was going to attack their former school friend.  
“I did, we had to cover it, I think given an option, you would have preferred my version as opposed to the article Rita penned.” Replied Cho, meeting Hermione’s gaze.  
“Justify it how you will” replied Hermione. She didn't know why she was being so blunt to Cho, she was probably being truthful. The article had been horrible to read but it had been factual. Cho and Ginny began talking about Quidditch again and Hermione started to zone out. If Cho was writing for the Daily Prophet, and she stopped Rita Skeeter from plastering lies about her marriage then it was entirely plausible that it was Cho that had sent her that mysterious letter, the one telling her to seek out Grafton. She couldn't even wait for them to finish their conversation.  
“Tell me about the Jacob Kowalski foundation” she said.


End file.
